Of Hobbits and Paladins
by Cougarmadcat
Summary: Avera and Casavir travel on their own from Old Owl Well to the Flagon to bring supplies as the others bring supplies to Katriona for the residents of Old Owl Well.


Water lapped against her chest as she laid her head over the big rock she had found in a sandy section of the pond. She had undone her ponytail to allow her hair to flow in the water behind her, and was enjoying the feeling of it hanging loose.

It was just her and Casavir and it felt nice. The others had left with their loads of supplies to bring to Katriona as she and Casavir were traveling directly to the Sunken Flagon with their own load. It made it so that they had a bit more time than the others and decided to camp very early on their first day out.

Casavir was off somewhere gathering wood. She knew she could count on him not to come peeking. Darn it all. Then again, he seemed to like cold showers lately and there was a waterfall just behind her that he had been eyeing when they arrived. Hmm. Maybe the paladin wasn't being as "virtuous" as everyone told her he should be. It didn't matter. She knew he watched her, doing so when he thought no one would notice. It made her feel all tingly inside.

But what was she thinking? All of those dreams were just that. Dreams. Just because the dreams were so vivid and, well, filled with lustful intent, it did not mean it was to come to pass. Just because the dreams she had did show her friends whom she finally met, didn't mean this one was more than a fantasy of a man she would meet. She closed her eyes in regret at the thought.

They had only been together for about five weeks, but she had felt a bond with the man on her first sight of those ice blue eyes.

Those eyes! She had felt like she was drowning in their depths when hers had met his. It could have been her imagination but it felt like a shiver had run through him as well. Then Katriona had kept looking at her. It was as if Katriona could feel something from Casavir and noticed it was directed towards her little hobbit self. Yes, keep dreaming, little one.

And whenever their eyes met after that, everything else seemed to melt away and she was caught in some currents she didn't understand. She wondered if he felt the same when their eyes met. He certainly seemed just as stunned by it as she was.

Even though she felt urges towards Casavir, she had never been with a man except in her dreams. Maybe that was all she would ever have. Dreams. Tears started to flow and she had trouble keeping them back. Would she always be alone? Just like she was as a child and a teenager? For goodness sakes she was twenty five and still had not had even one lover, let alone a person who would stick with her through thick and thin. Then again, it seemed her thicks came about more than her thins. How could she ever expect a man to want her with constantly being the target of some foe or other?

And how could she expect a man to want a hobbit?

Most men looked at hobbits as if they were children. You are small so you're a child. Sigh.

Sure she could go visit hobbits but she was scared of them. How couldn't she be after that one had done those horrible things to her as a child? She was than five years old when that happened, but she remembered every moment. She touched the rough scar that ran just under her ribcage all the way from her right side to the left then back and around almost to her belly button. No she could never find peace with hobbits. The trauma that had been done to her at such a young age made her uneasy even thinking about her own race.

Plus, all she could think of was Casavir. A man who everyone kept telling her was beyond reach for any woman. Their honor and loyalty to their kingdom always came first. Blah blah blah. Yes, Khelgar. Yes, Neeshka. I understand what you say. In my head I do. It is that stinking heart which is the rebel!

Maybe she should just listen to Neeshka and find someone willing to do it with her. Go find Darmon and say, "Come get it." Just so she could know at least once what her dreams and people's stories really were like. Or she could just suppress her natural urges and continue as if she had no interest in being with someone. To actually be loved for once. To feel love from someone when it was not as a daughter or a friend.

As if she ever received loving intent from the father who would never show fatherly emotions. She never had that. She never hated her father for being what he was but it still hurt. The closest to parental love she had received was from Kala, the dire wolf who had helped raise her, and her cubs. So how could she expect to be able to show how she felt when she never received it as a child? And how could she show it in a mature relationship? She could always growl and nip. She heard that some men liked that. That ranger would probably find something like that exciting.

Now why think of Bishop? That man would kill her in a moment. He smelled good and was certainly attractive but even if he were interested, which he had made clear many times before that he wasn't, he was the type to use a person up then throw them away.

She washed off her face with the cloth she had taken with her. No sense in having Casavir asking why she was crying. As she laid her hand back down to her side she could feel something moving. On her right hip was a foot long bloodsucker. It's body wiggled as it pulled the blood out of her small frame.

In a moment she was standing. There was another bloodsucker on her knee and one on her left big toe. She felt her back and found another there. Avera tried to pull off the one on her hip but it was too slippery. There was no way to pull it off. So she did the next best thing. Scream and bounce around like a ninny.

With amazing speed, Casavir was at the edge of the water, watching as she tried to pull the slippery creatures off of her with no success. She was doing something he had never seen her do before. Panic.

He ran to her and cradled her into his arms then bolted back to their campsite. There he took a burning stick and burned each of the bloodsuckers right behind their mouths, making them twitch and release. He tossed them into the fire then healed the bleeding wounds. He knew that if he didn't do that then they would keep bleeding. All this time she had her face buried into his shoulder, shuddering in fear.

Casavir held her while making shushing sounds and wondering why these creatures would make her react so violently. Then he realized he was holding a completely naked woman who was tantalizingly breathing into his neck. He almost moaned but bit down on his lip. His only concern had been to deal with whatever had been scaring her and had not even noticed that she was unclothed. But now she was calming down and he could feel and see her body.

He looked down at her light skin and became entranced. She seldom had any part of herself in the sun besides her face, hands, and neck so her body was a lighter creamy color than her face. There were many scars, the two most pronounced being one in the center of her chest and a huge one just under her ribcage. He could guess at the one below the ribcage but the one over her ribcage was a mystery.

His eyes wandered, checking out her breasts, down her smooth abdomen and over the swatch of fur between her legs. His hand gently moved down her side until he realized what he was unconsciously doing. She had relaxed into the caress and shivered from it but was still pressed into his neck.

Casavir pulled his hand away and averted his eyes. This was wrong of him. He could not understand what had gotten into him. But her breath was so warm and her nose was now cuddled into the dip of his neck. She rubbed up to him and he was suddenly happy and unhappy at the same time that he still wore his armor. He was certainly going to need a cold shower.

"Uhm … Avera," He stuttered while trying not to lick his lips at the sight of her, "You may wish to put some clothes on." He tried to keep his voice even, unconcerned, but it was not working.

She suddenly looked up at him in shock, "Oh!" She rolled out of his arms, accidentally causing his hand to rub against one breast. He could hear a pleased, little moan escape her as this happened, and had to fight back the urge to hear more of those moans. It took willpower but he kept his head turned away to give her privacy, biting down on his own urges.

Avera pulled on some simple clothes and bounced back over to beside him. As she put her head on his arm, he looked back down at her, "So what made you react like that, my lady. I mean, you have no problems jumping into the jaws of huge spiders."

"It's what they are. What they do, I should say." She shook her head and looked up at him, "My da took me hunting at times. Sometimes I went on the traplines as well but for the most part I took care of the farm. This one time we found a fox. A cute little red head like me I suppose." She chuckled and he chuckled along with her. Then her breath caught, "But it was in bad shape. Scaver ants had taken it over. They were inside, eating it alive. You," She turned her head, "You could hear them munching and smell the results. Da told me to come along, to leave it as it was soon to death anyway. I pulled his axe and cut the fox's head off."

He blinked at her and rubbed her back, but let her continue, "I couldn't let it suffer like that. I … I just couldn't. Then I felt something on my ankle, then in it. Some of the ants had fallen near me, and," Her voice broke with the memory of the stabbing, fiery pain, "They got into my leg."

She lifted her right leg to show him a jagged line of scars just above the ankle. He had originally taken it as another "war wound" but he realized the pattern was different, "Da killed the ants with a special antiseptic and I was able to heal it. I got a stern lecture, and that was the first time I stood up to my father. I told him that I would not allow anything to suffer. I could kill for food or other sustenance but suffering was something I could not abide." She sighed, "Since then, anything that can get into your system to eat you from the inside ... or even just suck your blood … well, I either go ballistic or freak out with them."

He watched as she turned back to him, and their eyes met. He had no idea how long the spell lasted between them this time. He had found it confusing that every time they looked into the other's eyes, everything seemed to just stop. Trust Tyr. But this couldn't be. She couldn't have that much power over him and vice versa. The confusion in her eyes told him that she wasn't spelling him. He knew, deep down that she cared.

Casavir pulled his eyes from hers with difficulty, "What about the others? I heard that you dreamt of everyone before you met them?" He thought it wasn't really a fair question but he had to know if what Elanee and Grobnar had said was true.

She twisted and brought his arm along her shoulders. He allowed her the support, "Yappy friends." She giggled, "I did dream of everyone. Khelgar was the first I met. I dreamed of a burly fighter the night before I met him. We hit it off right away. Almost like long lost siblings. We traveled together for about a couple of weeks before meeting anyone else. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time." Or ever with a person, "He made me feel wanted. Like we could watch out for each other and be best of friends."

He had wondered about her relationship with the dwarf. At first he'd felt a bit jealous thinking something more was between them. They had seemed very close but when Casavir started to protect her, Khelgar had backed off to allow him to watch Avera's back instead. They certainly teased each other like siblings would.

"My dream of Neeshka was of horns, tails and nimble fingers opening a trunk. We met her the day after my dream and even though she and I hit it off, Khelgar was not happy with her. I think, in a way, he was kind of jealous having to share a friend."

"You brought her with you knowing that she was a thief?"

She turned at the incredulous tone, "She was being harassed by supposed officers of the law, and they were going to kill her. I couldn't leave her alone with people like that around. There is no reason for death just because someone stole a few coins. Maybe some jail time or reimbursement equal to the theft but that was ridiculous. And, I like Neeshka. She's like the big sister I never had."

"It does worry me that she steals." He brushed her bangs from her face, "I fear her trying to bring you in on her endeavors."

"Yeh, she says the same about you."

He laughed, a strong reassuring chuckle that made her warm inside, "Well, I guess we can at least agree to caring about your welfare." As long as the tiefling cared about Avera's welfare, he figured that he could put up with her.

"Casavir, I didn't know you cared." She teased knowing full well that he did. That was no question. The question was, how much.

"I …" He stuttered and tried to look away, "Well, of course I care." It sounded lame to his ears and he knew she caught that.

It was her turn to laugh, "Anyway, Neeshka has been nothing but a good friend and has really been like another sibling. Especially with her griping with Khelgar. But Elanee is a bit different. Even though she feels like another sister, there is something about her that makes me wonder why she's around. My dreams of her were flashes of someone following me with a dire badger. I dreamed of her before I even met Khelgar." She cocked her head to the side, "But now I found out that she's been following me for a long time. I care for her, but I don't know what to think of that."

He shrugged, "I cannot answer that for you. She seems respectable enough." He looked to the side where a couple of partridges lay in a bag then up at the sky, "What about Grobnar?" Now that was another big question. How did the gnome fit in?

Now she really laughed. A loud chortle burst from her lips, "He I did not dream about! He's kind of like the strange cousin who came to visit and never left. We have fun together and it's great having someone else to talk about bard stuff with. Sometimes I want to just whack him across the head. But he's a good guy. He follows well and listens most of the time. Sometimes I think it's like having a funny puppy following me around."

Casavir grinned, "He is certainly different." He watched her carefully as she tried to avoid his eyes, "Any other dreams?" His voice lowered, almost seductively but with no hint of trying to charm her.

She licked her dry lips and turned her head, "I dreamed of you. Many times. It started about a year, maybe two years ago. I don't remember."

"So what did you see?" He had to know. If her dreams were anything like the visions and dreams he had … then what? He had no idea what to do from there.

Avera wiggled and took a deep breath, "The dreams about you have always been … vivid. I could see your face, your hair, even your eyes." And the muscles, your ability to whisper in my ear and make my blood run fire, and other parts of you that I've never seen before. She thought it but did not say it. How could she tell him that she had many upon many intimate, sexual dreams about him? Vivid, almost real dreams, or at least real enough to what she knew about things like that, "We … enjoyed being together."

Her cheeks were red and she was breathing harder. Casavir knew she was not telling the full story, but he figured that she probably thought he may leave her if he knew. He wouldn't leave her. He couldn't leave her. And even though he would have to face his own ghosts alone, and likely soon, he would not allow her to face hers alone.

"Did you catch anything for supper? I suppose those bloodsuckers have burned off enough that we can cook without them fouling the food."

His hand went to her cheek out of pure reaction, "Indeed I did, my lady. I caught your favorite."

Avera jumped up and kissed his forehead, "Thank you, my paladin!" His heart caught and he got a little thrill up the spine. She never indicated before that she considered him hers, and somehow it felt good.


End file.
